


Always Looking After You

by SoonerOrLater



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, Cold, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoonerOrLater/pseuds/SoonerOrLater
Summary: David has a cold. He doesn't respond the way Patrick expects David Rose would. Then he realises, David Rose has never had anyone to look after him before.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 8
Kudos: 187





	Always Looking After You

**Author's Note:**

> Set mid-series Five. Before 'Meet the Parents' and 'The Hike'. Canon compliant.

David had a cold. 

On day one he’d been sniffling a bit, and complaining he was tired. Patrick had chosen the ‘tough love’ approach to curing his boyfriend’s cold and set him to work on inventory, mainly because experience had taught him David couldn’t count and talk at the same time, which bought him much needed peace and quiet. 

By day two his eyes were running. It was a quite endearing characteristic actually. He informed Patrick that like his Mom, instead of a running nose he got running eyes with a cold. And it made him look like he was crying half of the day. Until eventually he put his sunglasses on. For which Patrick mocked him for a solid half an hour. Until he had gone and sulked in the back of the store counting the candles. At which time Patrick took pity and brought him a tea. 

He found David wearing one of their scarves while he sorted the candles. Well, more accurately was sat surrounded by candles. Patrick put a hand on his shoulder as he handed the tea over and realised he was shivering. 

‘David you’re cold.’ 

‘I’m fine’ he muttered, though it sounded more like ‘find’ 

‘Come on David I know I made fun of you earlier but you’re sick. You should go home.’ He tightened his grip on David’s shoulder ‘Not least before you sneeze on one of the pies and we can’t sell it.’ 

David couldn’t deny he felt awful. He was shivering and cold, but also determined not to give in. Not to be the Drama Queen Patrick knew he was. Somehow powering through his cold had become a point of pride. He looked up, his sunglasses covering his eyes still. Patrick was a bit blurry and dark but he looked concerned. 

‘Fine. Really.’ he said ‘It’s almost closing time.’

Patrick considered a moment. ‘Ok but get up off the floor, it’s cold and it can’t be doing you any good.’ he wasn’t sure what sense there was in that advice but it sounded like something his Mom would say. ‘And drink the tea, there’s honey in it, good for your throat.’ 

David made a face, not being a fan of honey as a rule. But nodded, turning his attention to the candles and hauling himself upwards- with a lot more effort than it should take- as he did so. He felt like death warmed up really. He rarely got sick and he actually was trying to be less dramatic about it than his usual behaviour would suggest. Partly he didn’t have the energy. He sat on one of the wooden chairs slowly counting the candles, aching a bit as he did so but telling himself it was being hunched over for too long. And reminding himself it was almost hometime. 

As Patrick locked the door, David stood shifting awkwardly from one foot to another. A sure sign he wanted something but wasn’t sure how to say it. 

‘What?’ Patrick asked 

‘Can I stay at your place tonight?’ David asked. He was impossible to read behind his sunglasses. 

‘Since when do you ask?’ Patrick shrugged, putting the keys in his pocket and going towards the Storeroom for his jacket and David’s bag ‘Since when do you need to ask, you know you’re welcome any time.’ he handed David his bag. He was looking down. 

‘Yeah but I’m sick. You might not want me…like this.’ He didn’t want to go back to the Motel. It was loud and full of people. Largely unsympathetic people past experience had taught him. And mostly because, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he felt horrible and he wanted his boyfriend. Even if he had mocked his sunglasses this afternoon. All he could think about was curling up with him. 

Patrick smiled at him, amused and sympathetic in equal measure. David’s mind took him in strange, but also sad directions sometimes. As much as he mocked his glasses and his pouting, the thought he wouldn’t want to take care of his sick boyfriend was also really sad. That said, resting on the sad part wouldn’t make a slightly melancholy David any better. He rested a hand on David’s shoulder ‘David, while you are far from your most attractive right now.’ David snorted ‘I think I can tolerate you and your phlegm.’ 

‘Ew.’ David said. Then looked down ‘Thank you.’ 

Patrick reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Come on let’s feed you.’ 

‘Something soft.’ David whined. 

‘Alright alright.’ Patrick was already steering him out. ‘And if you’re really good I’ve got ice cream.’ 

Back at his apartment Patrick watched David change immediately into his pajamas and steal an old hoodie of Patrick’s he sometimes wore- a thing he would never admit to the outside world- and he was at once concerned but also endeared. Clearly David was feeling awful, that much was clear, but that he wanted to be here, that he’d gone straight for Patrick’s clothes to wear, it made him feel like something was solidified with them that hadn’t been before. Or at least that he hadn’t let himself be certain of. But David wanted him to take care of him. He was accidentally staring, he realised as David confirmed with a grumpy. ‘What?’ he flicked the hood up on the sweater as he did so. And caught Patrick’s smile. ‘Shut up.’ he muttered and shuffled to the sofa, pulling his knees up to his chest. Patrick walked over and pulled the blanket off the bed and threw it over David’s knees. He kissed his forehead. ‘Thanks.’ David muttered. 

‘Dinner in 10 minutes.’ Patrick said, leaving him to sulk for a moment. 

David leaned his head on the back of the sofa. It felt so full it might explode. He sniffed. And sniffed again. He was bored of sniffing. He was aching, and tired and all round grumpy. And trying his very best not to be too ‘David’ about it. He wasn’t good at being sick. But he wasn’t going to be exactly who everyone, and by everyone he knew he meant Patrick, assumed he would be- a whining baby about it. He was determined to not be that David. And somewhere in the depths of his mind he didn’t want Patrick to see a version of him that still might put him off. Rationally he could have told himself it was ridiculous. He had a cold, he was entitled to be sick. Patrick would understand if he lay on the couch for two days, he probably expected it. With David making demands about what he needed. And that was exactly why he was determined not to. He didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t want Patrick to think of him as that person. He didn't want Patrick fed up with him. 

He was awakened from the train of thought by Patrick’s voice. Far off at first but then right next to him. 

‘I said dinner.’ he said, as David opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times as Patrick held out a bowl. He took it and looked down. 

‘Mac and Cheese?’ he said. 

Patrick frowned, ‘I said in the car...I knew you weren’t listening to me.’ he rolled his eyes fondly, ‘I thought you loved it?’ he said suddenly worried he’d got it wrong. 

‘No, no I do. It’s...my favourite.’ he said softly ‘Well you know aside from The Ivy’s Duck.’ he attempted a small smile. Somewhere in that, and smelling the warm cheese, his eyes welled up.

‘You ok?’ Patrick frowned, watching as David wiped at his eyes. 

‘Fine.’ he said ‘Just, eyes running again.’ he sniffed. And buried his head in the bowl a bit. His boyfriend made his favourite because he was sick and it was a bit much to take. He felt Patrick reach over and rub a hand over his back, before he settled in with his own food. 

They ate quietly and Patrick was pleased to see David finish his food. A sure way to know something was really wrong was if he didn’t eat his food. So it definitely was just a miserable cold. Though Patrick couldn’t read whatever else was going on with him, this strange determination to carry on, he’d have had David down for milking a cold for all it was worth. But as ever the strange mysteries of David Rose were part of his charm. Patrick took the bowl off his boyfriend and went to the kitchen and opened the freezer. 

‘As you were especially well behaved. And as you ate all your dinner, Ice cream as promised!’ he announced. 

‘Yay’ said David in what looked like a sincere attempt at enthusiasm, but just came out a bit pathetic. Patrick chuckled at him, just as he sneezed several times. ‘Bless you.’ he said scooping ice cream into bowls. He suddenly had an idea, and rummaged in the cupboards for a few seconds. Then into another. 

‘What are you doing?’ David asked. 

‘You’ll see.’ Patrick said. Clattering about for a few moments more, then heading to the sofa again. ‘Ta dah! Cupboard sundae!’ he declared. 

David’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What on earth?!’ he said looking at the multicoloured mess in the bowl. 

‘My Mom used to do it for me when I was sick. You take ice cream and whatever candy you have in the cupboards and make a sundae. So in our case.’ he pointed as he described ‘Jelly Beans, Grated chocolate, Smarties and Reeses Pieces.’ he declared triumphant. 

‘That’s truly disgusting.’ David said, trying to hide a laugh ‘I love it.’

‘It seemed on par with Rose tastes.’ Patrick said. ‘And it made you smile.’ 

David smiled again. And was silenced before he could make a smart comment by Patrick pushing a spoonful of ice cream at his mouth. There was no need for him to feed David, he had his own bowl. But the gesture was sweet, and caring. And David scooted two Jelly Beans onto his own spoon, along with ice cream and did the same to Patrick. They ate quietly for a bit, and when he finished David looked over at Patrick and said a quiet ‘Thank you.’ 

Patrick smiled sideways at him. Then leaned over and kissed him. ‘Sticky.’ he said, then kissing him again ‘And snotty.’ 

David was sitting with the blanket over his head, when Patrick emerged from the bathroom a while later. His eyes and mouth are the only part of him really visible. He resembled a blue snowman. Patrick smiled. ‘You ok in there?’ he asked. 

‘Shut up I’m cold.’ he muttered. 

Patrick grinned again, and sat next to him, rubbing his hands up and down David’s arms. To his surprise he made a pleased sound a little like a cat. Patrick laughed gently. ‘C’mere.’ he said, pulling a less than compliant David over into his lap where he continued to rub his hand up and down his arm for a bit. He was shivering a bit but he stilled once Patrick’s arm was around him and he and the blanket had burrowed into his body heat. David sighed contentedly. He hadn’t realised how cold he was until Patrick’s heat radiated over onto him. He gratefully burrowed into his boyfriend and closed his eyes. 

Patrick continued to stroke David’s arm while he presumably dozed...not that he could see any of his face now. He shifted the blanket just enough to keep it off his face. And sure enough his eyes were closed. As much as it was early he let him. As much as he was mocking him, it did seem like the cold was taking hold, so he let him doze it off for a bit. 

About an hour later Patrick jumped- physically jumped- as David sneezed loudly, three times in quick succession. It clearly took David by surprise too as he sat up looking confused. 

Patrick laughed ‘Did you just sneeze yourself awake?’ he said with a grin. 

David blinked again. Then frowned. ‘Um. Yeah.’ 

Patrick screwed up his face in sympathy while still laughing. ‘Bless you.’ he said. 

‘Bit late now.’ David muttered. Only half sulking. He shivered. He had been warm but moving had sent a chill through him again. 

‘Ok come on Sneezy, bedtime.’ Patrick said getting up and offering his hands to David to pull him up. David groaned. ‘Oh come here.’ Patrick said with a fond roll of his eyes. He pulled David up and into a hug. ‘Bed.’ he said releasing him and steering him towards the bathroom. 

David grunted, but let himself be shooed. Once in the bathroom his head started to spin as he leaned over the sink to wash his face. He decided, just this once, to forgo his entire skincare routine, instead settling for just moisturiser, and a brushing his teeth before shuffling back across Patrick’s living room. His head felt so full it might explode. He flopped onto the bed and Patrick appeared at his side with a glass of water and some pills. 

‘Here.’ he said ‘They’re night-time ones, they’ll knock you out a bit.’ David made an appreciative grunt and Patrick leaned over and kissed his hair. ‘So grumpy.’ he said fondly. 

‘You’ll catch it if you keep kissing me.’ David glowered a bit. Patrick lowered himself in front of him. 

‘We’ve been together all day in the Store everyday this week. You were here two nights. We have already swapped a number of bodily fluids before yesterday.’ David made a face. ‘If I’m going to get your cold I’ve already got it.’ He kissed his cheek. ‘And then you can look after me.’ 

David grunted again. But crawled gratefully into bed. As he did Patrick produced a hot water bottle he’d prepared. David looked up from under his grumpy eyebrows, grateful again despite feeling like hell. ‘Thank you.’ he muttered. 

‘You’re welcome.’ Patrick said leaning over and kissing him properly. He knew David didn’t know what to do when someone looked after him, his defences were still high enough that when he was vulnerable any other way they came back up. He was better, but by no means completely adjusted to a life with someone who cared. Not that this didn’t also mean he wasn’t capable of being a full on Drama Queen as well. It was just knowing the difference. 

He got into bed and picked up his book. Lifting an arm he waited for David to scoot under it before lowering it down. He could feel the heat from the hot water bottle, and while it was nowhere near cold enough for him to need it, he didn’t object as it and David’s body heat warmed him up. David’s arm warped around his stomach and he leaned down and kissed his head. 

‘Goodnight.’ he said. 

‘G’night.’ David muttered into his boyfriend’s chest. He was conscious of the warmth around him in what felt like the first time all day before he drifted off to sleep. 

It didn’t last. He woke up at 2am with a pounding head and unable to breathe. He shuffled to the bathroom to blow his nose and to locate some painkillers in the hope his head would relent a bit. He felt dizzy when he moved his head too much and groaned softly to himself in the privacy of the bathroom. He got back to bed and was relieved to find he hadn’t woken Patrick who was where he’d left him curled up on his side facing away from David’s side of the bed. David got in and positioned himself on the opposite edge in the hope he could sniffle away and not wake him. Except the minute he lay down he started to sneeze again. A ridiculous succession of six. He moaned to himself as Patrick made a noise that might have been a cry of surprise as he woke him. 

‘S’ry’ he muttered taking the opportunity to loudly blow his nose.

Patrick first only half registered the noise, then started awake, then realised it was David sneezing. Then heard his sad little apology. He rolled over in bed, then rolled over again reaching for David, and pulling him closer. 

‘What you doing all the way over here?’ he muttered before falling back to sleep. 

David hummed softly to himself, enjoying the warmth back. Even as he lay there for another two hours begging his head to stop spinning and his nose to let him breathe. 

Patrick woke up at 6 to David snoring softly next to him. Clearly not able to breathe properly through his nose he was making a series of soft snuffling noises and grunts. Patrick half wanted to record it as bribery for the future but he also felt for his grumpy cold-filled boyfriend. He slipped out of bed to get ready for the day letting him sleep, assuming he’d been awake for more of the night than just the bit he was sneezing for. 

David woke up to the sounds of Patrick moving around the kitchen. He glanced at his phone it was 7.30, so early for him, late for Patrick who had probably been up for an hour already. He sniffed. Rolled over and blew his nose. He’d amassed quite the array of used tissues, so he scooped them up as he sat up. The liquid that felt like it was swirling around his head settling eventually. 

He ached all over. But he was determined. So he dragged himself into the shower and let the -mercifully powerful, thanks Ray for that at least- water run over him. He felt his nose clear for a moment and rejoiced in a second of breathing easier. As he took a deep breath he was rewarded by a coughing fit. He groaned. This happened whenever he got a cold that was determined to stick around. Just like the streaming eyes, like clockwork he could have predicted it. He coughed again feeling like his chest was on fire. He’d be fine, he reminded himself. He wasn’t dying, it was a cold. And he was going to prove he didn’t give in at the slightest hurdle. 

He let himself soak a while longer in the hot shower. Then did a proper skincare routine to try and counter some of the damage being done. Despite that he looked...grey, there was no word for it. 

He dragged himself into the bedroom and got dressed- slowly like wading through treacle. He could feel Patrick watching him. More so when he sneezed five times in rapid succession. He dug around in his bag for a packet of tissues. Blew his nose and shuffled into the kitchen. Patrick handed him a mug of coffee- knowing better than to try and make him forego his morning coffee even if tea was better for his cold. He then put a bowl of grey looking oatmeal in front of him. 

David made a face. Patrick rolled his eyes. ‘Eat it.’ he said ‘It’s good for you and soft. Also you could do with eating less bacon for breakfast.’ 

‘Bacon is a major food group.’ David muttered. 

‘Next time you tell me you can’t eat something you don’t like because it isn’t Kosher I’m remembering that.’ 

David huffed again. Patrick leaned over him with a bottle of syrup and quickly and expertly drew a smiley face in David’s oatmeal with it. In spite of himself, he smiled, and looked up at his boyfriend with a slightly dopey grin. ‘You’re ridiculous.’ He said to Patrick. Who kissed his cheek before retrieving his own bowl of oatmeal. 

David couldn’t really taste the oatmeal, or disappointedly his coffee. But it was warm and he felt better after. Despite sneezing the moment Patrick took the dishes away and put them in the sink. He wiped at his nose and got up- again stiffly and slowly- to get his bag. 

Patrick watched David sniffle his way through breakfast, then wander around aimlessly as if lost trying to- he assumed- find his wallet and phone before finally picking up his bag. Patrick shook his head. He’d imagined sick David would be milking it for all it was worth, lounging on the sofa and demanding things to be brought to him. Instead, he was stubbornly refusing to be sick. Which was admittedly a very David-like thing. Perhaps being sick was ‘incorrect’, Patrick was at a loss to explain it right now but he also wished his sniffly clearly sick boyfriend would just give in to it. 

‘You should stay-’ Patrick started. 

‘I’m going to work.’ David stubbornly, cutting him off, just as he finally found his phone, on the bedside table, where he’d left it. It would have been a more forceful statement had he not half croaked it. He was not going to give in this easily. He wasn’t going to let his boyfriend or his parents or anyone say David Rose was so dramatic a cold stopped him. It was rationally, stupid. Alexis would tell him nobody was thinking about him and his stupid cold. But he wasn’t about to listen to reason at this point either. Or to Patrick who was fixing him with an ‘I know better’ glare. 

‘David, just stay home. Rest. You’ll feel better tomorrow then you can come in.’

‘I’m fine now.’ David said stubbornly. 

‘You know when ‘fine’ sounds really convincing?’ Patrick said folding his arms ‘When you say it with a d on the end. You’re not ‘find’’ he said mimicking David’s croaky cold voice. He regretted it instantly. There was only a moment of it but he saw genuine hurt flash across David’s face. He sighed at himself and took the couple of steps towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist. ‘Fine.’ he said properly, ‘If you want to come in, come in. But I am sending you home if you get sicker.’

‘You aren’t the boss.’ David pouted. 

‘Aren’t I?’ Patrick asked looking up at David who wasn’t looking at him. ‘Hmmm.’ he said, giving him a squeeze. 

David finally looked at him. ‘If I was feeling better I would have a response to that which would make you blush.’ he said with what looked like a half-hearted raise of an eyebrow. Patrick found it weirdly endearing that he could possibly half-heartedly raise an eyebrow. 

‘Hmm. Tell you what then.’ Patrick said, ‘When you are feeling better, you can see if you can get me to blush with that answer.’ he leaned up and added ‘And you might even get a demonstration of exactly how I’m the boss.’ he kissed under David’s jaw as he pulled back. Satisfied he’d got a wry smile out of him in spite of everything. 

‘Well if that’s not motivation to get better.’ David muttered, then was halted as he tried to follow Patrick out by a coughing fit. It had definitely got worse since first thing, his chest ached as he coughed. 

Patrick stopped and turned back. David was coughing in a way that sounded painful. And he hadn’t been coughing before just...a lot of snot. ‘Seriously David should you be coming in?’ he said, then after a beat ‘When did you start coughing?’ 

‘This morning.’ he croaked, ‘In the shower, it’s fine it’ll pass.’ he sniffed and fished out a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose. 

Patrick nodded. There was little point in arguing. And it wasn’t like David needed to do any physical work, he could even sit out the back near the heater if he was this insistent on coming in. ‘Grab your scarf then.’ Patrick said with a nod to the chair. 

The morning went as well as Patrick expected. David was slow and grumpy, and sneezing and coughing every couple of minutes. The sneezing Patrick would have ignored- despite his boyfriend looking more grey and pallid every minute. But the cough sounded painful and even after a morning David looked exhausted. Still every time Patrick suggested he could go home and rest, he refused. At lunchtime it reached a tipping point. 

‘David! Will you please just go home!’ Patrick snapped ‘You’re sick and you’re no use to anyone right now!’ 

‘No!’ he insisted. ‘I’m FINE Sorry I’m so useless!’ At which point he tried to storm out but got derailed by a coughing fit so stormed into the storeroom where he hid for 15 minutes until Patrick sheepishly appeared. 

‘You aren’t useless.’ He said, holding out a bottle of water. ‘And drink this.’ 

He knew David needed to sulk for a bit. He also knew there was no point trying to argue when he was in a stubborn mood- as stubborn as he was too, picking his battles seemed wise. He heard the Store bell go so left him to it, pulling out his phone to send a quick text as he did so. 

An hour later David had emerged. Still pale, and Patrick noted a little shivery again. But he was quietly reorganising the scarves, so Patrick let him. He sent another text. 

David glared at his boyfriend, even though his back was turned. Part of him knew he was right. Part of him wanted nothing more than to curl up at home and sleep the day off. Part of him wanted to prove Patrick wrong for stubbornness sake. And part of him needed to prove he wasn’t going to be a brat about a cold. So he was stuck. Organising scarves. 

The Store bell went and he looked over automatically. His Mom was walking in. Wearing her leather skirt and white blouse, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around her that he was fairly certain was his. 

‘Oh there he is, poor boy, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!’ Moira swept in and went to Patrick at the counter ‘Patrick here had to text me!’

David groaned. His Mom was not exactly the person to have in any kind of crisis, not least one that involved bodily fluids. Also his boyfriend at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Still that wasn’t about to stop him. 

‘You called my MOM?!’ David’s outrage would have been more dramatic if he wasn’t croaking out every word, and had he not dissolved into a coughing fit after. Patrick winced, it sounded painful. 

‘Yes dear he called me, because you’re sick and you didn’t even THINK to tell your Mother.’ 

David rolled his eyes. ‘Mom I am thirty-’ he paused ‘Something.’ he caught Patrick’s smirk, ‘I don’t need to call my Mom because I have a cold.’ he sniffed, wiping at his nose, and coughed again. 

‘David everyone in this room knows how old you are.’ Patrick reminded him, not going to miss an opportunity to tease his vanity no matter if he was sick or not. 

‘Some of us were even there. Patrick dear, have I told you the story of the day David was born?’ 

‘No you have not.’ Patrick said with a triumphant grin. 

‘MOM!’ David objected striding across the room- getting halfway before he had to stop to cough again. Patrick and Moira both winced. He straightened up and sniffed again. 

‘I tell you what David.’ Patrick said, folding his arms and leaning on the counter. ‘Your Mom won’t tell me that story- for now- if you agree to listen to us and go home?’ 

David flicked his gaze between his Mom and his boyfriend. They were an unusual alliance, and irritatingly a more frequent one since she’d been directing him in the show, and he knew there was little steering either of them from something they’d set their minds on. 

‘It was nineteen eigh-’ Moira began 

‘Ok! Ok!’ David said, again the force of raising his voice making him cough. ‘Ok.’ he said, his throat feeling like barbed wire. ‘It’s like 3pm anyway, I can go home early.’ 

Patrick nodded satisfied. ‘Thank you.’ he said.

Suddenly, with the decision to go home the creeping exhaustion caught up with him. ‘Mom.’ he said softly ‘Do you have the car? Can you give me a ride?’

‘Of course I do David dear, why do you think I’m here.’ She held out an arm and David scooted closer to her, allowing himself to be embraced slightly. ‘I’ll drop you home and you can have a nap, then Patrick will be home to take care of you.’ she patted his shoulder and he nodded. 

Patrick felt a pull at his chest seeing a rare moment of tenderness between David and his Mom. He knew they loved each other- really David worshipped Moira in his own way- but they rarely expressed it. He went into the back and grabbed David’s bag, going to hand it to him Moira took it. ‘Drink fluids. Take some more pills. I’ll call at the pharmacy on the way home for some cough syrup. And I’ll make soup for dinner ok?’ 

David started to answer but coughed again, so nodded instead. Patrick leaned up on his toes to kiss the top of David’s head. ‘Off you go.’ He said, and with a nod to Moira ‘Thanks Mrs Rose, I’ll take care of him later.’

‘Oh I know.’ she said with a fond smile steering her son out the door. 

‘I’m fine really.’ he heard David protest as the door shut. Patrick shook his head, taking care of a sick David was always going to be hard work. But oddly, something about being able to do it was filling him with a strange sense of pride. The idea they’d made it this far that David let him take care of him felt...strangely big. 

David leaned on the window with his scarf as a pillow for the short drive home. His head really was pounding. They pulled up and he frowned as his Mom got out of the car. 

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, confused. 

‘Taking you home.’ She replied, ‘just like I promised your darling boyfriend.’ 

‘Ok well I can walk three flights of stairs unassisted.’ David said with a shrug. 

‘Let Mommy take care of you.’ Moira said with a slight glint in her eye, spotting her son’s stubborn petulance masking how he was really feeling a mile off ‘And I will make you some tea.’

David rolled his eyes. ‘Ok fine.’ he said, leading them in. He had to stop halfway up the stairs to cough and catch his breath. Either he was far more unfit than he thought or this cold really was taking hold. He paused for a moment struggling to breathe as panic set in, maybe it was more than a cold.

‘Come on dear, on we go, darn cough always does slow you right down doesn’t it?’ Moira nudged him from behind once, then a bit more forcefully when he didn’t move. Eventually David shuffled into the apartment and headed straight for the bed to flop onto it. Finally giving in to exhaustion. He could hear his Mom clattering about in the kitchen half muttering to herself. He hauled himself upright to take off his shoes then flopped his way back down. He didn’t have the energy to get changed. He sneezed violently, which set off a coughing fit and he groaned. He looked up to his Mom standing over him with a mug of tea in one hand and water in another. She set both down, and handed him two pills. 

‘Don’t worry they’re not any of mine. Cold medicine, from the pack on the counter.’ 

David nodded and took them, he picked up the mug of tea and held it to him. ‘Thanks.’ he muttered. Moira nodded. He looked like he’d gone ten rounds with someone. His eyes were bright red from watering, just like hers did with a cold- the eyeliner she’d wasted there. And his nose was bright red too, all against uncharacteristically pale skin. She reached over and smoothed his hair down. 

‘Poor boy.’ she said sympathetically. He flicked his eyes up at her asking a silent question. ‘I can stay a bit.’ she said fondly. She walked around the bed and climbed over on the other side, Patrick’s side she then assumed, pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed over David and over her legs. He made an appreciative noise and rested his head on her shoulder. She let him sit quietly. While their past had not been filled with exactly maternal moments on her part, David had always come to her when he was sick. She hadn’t always been the best at dealing with a sickly child, but she’d also- no matter what it might have seemed- done her best. And it warmed her that clearly she’d done something right there if he still came to her. 

‘Everything hurts.’ he muttered. 

‘Why on earth were you in work David?’ she asked, lifting a hand to his forehead, he was quite warm, but not entirely feverish. She felt him shrug. ‘David.’ she said with a slight warning. 

He sighed. ‘I didn’t want him to think I was being dramatic.’ he muttered. And sighed again. 

‘David I think Patrick knows by now you have a flair for the dramatic and let’s be thankful he finds it one of your endearing qualities.’ she paused ‘Like your Father does with me.’

‘Ew. Thanks Mom for that comparison.’ he shrugged ‘I just wanted to prove...it’s stupid.’

‘That you aren’t the worst parts everyone assumes?’ Moira asked. She felt him nodd. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. Me too.’ He shifted away from her to look. ‘Everyone always assumes that ‘Moira Rose’ is this dramatic, and as a result, slightly scatterbrained, blonde actress.’ she said, ‘What they don’t know, is how hard I worked behind that.’

David nodded. He did know. As much as his Mom projected an image, as much as she was ‘TV’s Moira Rose’ he also knew the reason she wasn't around much when he was a kid, was that she worked, and worked. 

‘I had to work twice as hard as anyone else- particularly any man- to make people take me remotely seriously. Proving they weren’t right about the soap actress who married the wealthy man and was ‘a bit dramatic’...and you want to prove you’re not just the dramatic one who doesn’t have to work...that you’re the version of you that he thinks he sees?’

David sighed. And nodded. His Mom had an uncanny ability to see his and Patrick’s relationship clearer than he did. 

‘I’ll tell you what I told you before David, he sees you, for all that you are.’ she wrapped an arm around him ‘And he loves you.’ 

David hummed into her. ‘I just didn’t want to let him down.’ he said softly. 

‘Then let him take care of you.’ she said, patting his arm. She felt him grow heavy against her and reached down for his mug. Suddenly overtaken by the pills, and probably a morning of fighting to stay upright David sort of folded down into the pillows as she moved. She got up and walked around to cover him with the blanket, smoothing down his hair as he coughed again. ‘Get some rest.’ she said. 

David just about heard his Mom over his coughing and the increased fog in his head. ‘Thank…’ he managed before drifting off to sleep. The next thing he was conscious of was Patrick’s soft voice, and his hand in his hair. 

‘Hey there he is.’ Patrick said with an equally soft smile as David blinked awake. David frowned, then hauled himself up to hug his boyfriend fiercely. ‘Whoa, what did I do to deserve this?’ Patrick asked as David was overcome by a coughing fit. Slightly breathless having moved too quickly, he braced himself on Patrick’s shoulder. ‘Ok easy.’ Patrick said, lifting a hand to his cheek ‘Ok?’ he asked. David swallowed and Patrick leaned over and handed him some water.

Patrick absently ran his hand over David’s hair as he drank smoothing it down, not that it did much good. As he did he registered David felt warm, too warm even from being curled up under the blankets. His hair was a bit damp too. Patrick moved his hand down and flipped it over resting it on David’s forehead. David swatted at him.

‘I’m fine.’ he muttered drinking. Though as he did he registered he felt warm. He closed his eyes for a second and felt Patrick’s hand on his head. It felt cold, but he had just come in from outside. 

‘Hmmm.’ Patrick made a concerned noise. David wasn’t boiling hot but he definitely felt too warm, and he was slightly damp with sweat. ‘You’re getting a fever David.’

‘Hrmph.’ David said halfway between a disgruntled noise and a rebuttal. He coughed again and instinctively reached for Patrick and clung on. Patrick’s hand came up to his hair when he was done, smoothing it over. It was nice, and David leaned in for a second. Patrick pushed him back and held his face in his hands. 

‘Can we agree that for tonight you’re going to stay in bed, eat the soup I’m going to make and take your medicine?’ David nodded into his hands. ‘Good.’ Patrick leaned down and kissed his nose. He made a face. ‘Get changed while I cook.’ he said ‘Oh hold on.’ he went over to the table and picked up the pharmacy bag, then went to the kitchen to get a spoon. 

David watched him rush around fussing with finding the bag and spoon. He was sorry for being too stubborn for his own good suddenly. And also exhausted. Patrick returned with the cough syrup, reading the label as he did. ‘It says two spoonfuls.’ he said ‘Though I might up it to four if I want to knock you out later.’ David made a face as Patrick poured it, ‘I haven’t even given it to you yet.’ Patrick muttered, then with a roll of his eyes fed it to David like he would a kid. Following it with another before David could object too much. He laughed at David’s expression of disgust but on giving the cough syrup a sniff made a similar one. He held his hand over David’s in a fist, ‘Gimme your hand.’ he said with a smile, David frowned and complied, Patrick dropped a handful of Jelly Beans into it. The grin David involuntarily broke into was worth all the battles with him today. He gratefully threw most of the jelly beans into his mouth, pausing to hand two to Patrick- the green ones, which he didn’t like Patrick noted, but grinned nonetheless. 

True to his word- and beaten down by exhaustion at last- David sat in bed and ate the soup Patrick made. As well as more ice cream. Patrick kept him dosed with cold medicine and cough syrup, which he was tracking hour by hour on his phone. He also appeared with a cool washcloth which he placed on David’s forehead, while he lay on his chest watching Masterchef on the laptop. Periodically he’d cough for long seconds, feeling like his chest was ripping in two. But if he lay quietly he felt ok. He even managed some scathing commentary of the cooking on display. Something Patrick took as a good sign. Militantly following his dosing of David with cough syrup and cold medicine, he gave him the nighttime dose at 10pm and shooed him to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

He was already drowsy by the time he got back to bed. By the time he felt Patrick getting in next to him he was almost fully asleep. He registered Patrick kissing the top of his head, that he’d almost buried under the covers and then nothing. 

At least for a couple of hours. He woke himself - and then Patrick- up the first time at midnight. Almost on the dot, like some kind of twisted witching hour. He couldn’t breathe, and then he couldn’t stop coughing. Eventually he flopped back on the pillow, only to realise his nose was running. He huffed, and reached for a tissue. 

‘You ok?’ Patrick mumbled from behind him. 

‘Mmmhh’ he managed to flop on his back. Which was a mistake. The pressure behind his nose and eyes became unbearable. So he grunted again, and flopped on his side. He felt Patrick roll into him, wrapping an arm around him, and he sighed again. 

The next time David’s coughing woke him it was around 2am. But this time he carried on, and on. Patrick felt a stab of sympathy for how much that much hurt. 

‘Here.’ he mumbled half awake going back to the kitchen ‘Cough syrup.’

In the dark between them they managed to get two spoonfuls into his mouth as he coughed. David lay back down on his side, still coughing occasionally but his throat and chest felt soothed a bit. ‘Thanks.’ he croaked. He felt Patrick reach out and touch his forehead, making a concerned noise ‘Fine.’ he mumbled and croaked again .

Patrick hummed in return. He was definitely running a low fever. But hopefully it would pass overnight. He moved his hand up to David’s hair and ran his thumb back and forth for a second. He’d stilled for a bit so hopefully the cough syrup was taking effect and giving him a couple of hours sleep. 

He was right, in that a couple of hours was all it gave David. He woke up again, his chest felt like it was on fire now, and no matter how much he coughed he couldn’t seem to clear the tickle in his throat or the heaviness in his chest. He groaned between coughs. He felt Patrick get up. He groaned again, he must be really irritated with him by now, for keeping them up. He felt Patrick’s hand on his arm. 

‘Here.’ he said softly ‘Take some pills, it's been long enough.’ 

David grunted and sat up. Setting his cough off again. He took the pills and Patrick took back the glass of water. He felt Patrick’s hand on his forehead again. Even in the dark he could sense him frown. 

‘David you’re burning up, how do you feel.’ 

He shrugged, ‘Sore.’ he said ‘My chest...’ he coughed again, over and over. And growled to himself fed up. His nose was running again now too, he grabbed a tissue and blew. ‘I just feel…’ he made a defeated sound, and Patrick ran his hand over his back. 

‘You can probably try and sleep it off. Wake me if it feels worse yeah?’

‘I’ll probably have woken you with this.’ David grumbled, coughing again as if his body was making a point. But turned over and tried to sleep again anyway. 

It was stupid. It was a cold. He was fine, but at 4.30 after a full thirty minutes of coughing David reached breaking point and he started to cry. Patrick had been lying next to him stroking his arm, and back trying to sooth him through the coughs best he could, and at first mistook the sniffles for his nose or eyes bothering him again. He leaned away to get a tissue. 

‘I know I know it’s stupid!’ David exclaimed in the dark, and Patrick registered a little hiccup as he cried. His stomach dropped as he realised David thought he was rolling away from him because he was crying. 

‘Oh hey, no. No no.’ he said rolling back towards him ‘Just getting tissues.’

‘Oh.’ David hiccuped, and coughed again ‘But I’m you know…’

‘Come here.’ Patrick said scooting up in the bed piling pillows underneath. ‘Come on.’ he insisted, David hauled himself up sniffling and coughing in equal measure. Patrick lifted his arm up in the usual way to allow David to scoot underneath. ‘You must be exhausted.’ Patrick mumbled into his hair. Which was enough to send David over the edge. He was, his body ached, his chest felt like it was on fire and he was miserable. And he was keeping his boyfriend up all night with it. He let himself cry on him for a minute. Before his brain kicked in and told him he was making it worse. He sniffed, pulled back, and rolled onto his own pillow.

‘Sorry.’ he muttered. 

Patrick blinked confused. One minute David had been crying, understandably exhausted and in pain no doubt. The next he was rolling away. It was so unlike David on multiple levels, not least the clingy octopus-armed person who usually shared his bed. But he was sick, and clearly exhausted. Patrick let him. Scooting back down on the pillows he tried to get some sleep too. 

They must have both dozed off because the next time Patrick woke it was 5.30, and David wasn’t there. Patrick sat up and looked around. He was curled up on the sofa. Seemingly asleep. He got up to check, his legs were tucked up underneath him and his head was on the armrest. He had headphones in. Patrick pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and tucked it around him. How long he’d actually been asleep was impossible to tell but at least he was now, even if it was on the sofa. 

He hadn’t turned the lights on, and as he stumbled towards the bathroom he managed to walk into the end of the sofa. Catching his foot and shouting ‘Fuck!’ instinctively. 

David woke with a start. Sitting up too fast his head was swimming. With his headphones on he couldn’t hear what Patrick said but he saw he was shouting. 

‘Fuck. Fuck.’ Patrick cursed his foot throbbing from the impact. He braced himself on the sofa ‘David. Didn’t mean to wake you.’ he frowned at David. 

David saw him shout, then frown at him. And although his brain hadn’t fully kicked in his mouth did. ‘I KNOW! OK!’ he said ‘I’m ridiculous and a pain, and being dramatic and I flounced off to the sofa and woke you up again, ok I’m SORRY!’ He sat up properly and flopped against the sofa. 

‘Whoa.’ Patrick said stilling now as the pain subsided. ‘Where the hell did that come from!?’ 

‘You.’ David gestured ‘Shouting.’ 

Patrick blinked. Waking up a bit more now. ‘David I stubbed my toe. It’s dark and I tripped over the God-damn sofa, and so I swore and woke you up.’ 

David blinked at him. ‘You’re not mad at me?’ 

‘Why would I be mad?’ Patrick tilted his head and came to sit on the arm rest. 

David looked down fidgeting with the blanket that was now pooled in his lap. ‘I kept you up all night.’ he shrugged. 

Patrick half smiled in sympathy, and ran a hand over David’s neck and over to his shoulder. ‘You’re sick, it’s not your fault. Why would I be mad?’ David shrugged not looking up. 

‘Just you might not want me around like this.’ he muttered. 

‘David you’ve got a cold, you’ll be better in a few days. I can lose a night’s sleep for that. It’s kind of my job now.’

David looked at him confused, his eyebrows meeting in the middle. Suddenly it fell into place; David didn’t understand someone unconditionally being there for him. Even now. His parents, for all they were now, hadn't been there. Everyone he’d ever dated had abandoned him, hurt him. And certainly hadn’t looked after him when he was sick. If he’d ever let anyone see him sick, which Patick realised was unlikely. And whether it was a bit of exhaustion, or the sheer ridiculous love for David he found himself feeling sometimes, combined with sadness for all the hurt in his past, Patrick felt tears prick at his eyes. He moved around to David’s right and sat down. He wiped at his eyes, cursing being over-tired for making him overly emotional as well. 

‘Oh see you’re upset now!’ David exclaimed, and sent himself into a coughing fit. Patrick reached over and rubbed a hand on his back. 

‘I’m not. I’m not you idiot.’ Patrick quickly wiped his eyes. ‘David I get it now. I’m sorry.’ he said, continuing to rub David’s back, ‘I’m sorry for hassling you about stopping, about being sick, about letting me look after you. I get it now.’ David blinked at him ‘It’s because nobody ever has been there to look after you isn’t it?’

David wiped at his running nose again and opened his mouth to answer, and instead coughed again. While he fought his chest to stop and give him a breather, literally, the full force of what Patrick was saying hit him. He nodded while he coughed, feeling tears start to well at the same time. 

‘David I am always going to look after you, that's sort of the point.’ Patrick shrugged at him, ‘It’s kinda non-negotiable at this point.’ he reached over and put his hand behind David’s head gently forcing him to look up. ‘I love you, so I’m looking after you ok?’

David sniffed and nodded, then sort of half collapsed onto Patrick crying. Mostly through exhaustion, and the pain that still ripped through his chest and head. He flopped into Patrick’s lap and let him hold him for a while the soothing feeling of his hand running up and down his back warmed him as well. Soon he felt the weight of a blanket coming over him too, and before he could object to Patrick sitting with him there on the sofa he was asleep. 

Patrick felt him still as he fell asleep. He’d been softly sniffling- along with still not being able to breathe through his nose. But after a few minutes in his lap, running his hand up and down, and covering him with the blanket, finally he stilled and drifted off to sleep. It was almost six, and Patrick would have to get ready for work all too soon, he was going to have to leave David for some of the day at least, but for now he was happy to spent an hour or so letting him sleep in his lap. 

In the end they dozed until 8am. Patrick figured he could take his breakfast with him to the Store and unlike David didn’t require a full hour to get ready- he could be out the door in ten minutes. At 8 he reluctantly nudged David awake enough to move him. 

‘Go back to bed.’ he said quietly, ‘I’m gonna get ready for work.’ 

Either David was finally exhausted, or their talk had made him give in. Either way he uncurled himself from Patrick and shuffled off to bed. Patrick could hear him coughing while he showered but he was quiet and still while Patrick brewed some coffee, putting it in a thermos for himself, along with Oatmeal in a tupperware container, and making the same for David. He set it out on a tray, along with the cold medication and some water. He nudged David’s shoulder and he sat up. His eyes were red and his hair was a mess. Patrick smiled at the dishevelled image. 

‘Breakfast.’ he said, ‘How’s the fever?’ David made a face and Patrick reached over, he was still very warm, but he seems mostly ok. ‘Ok, well I’ll come home at lunch, if you feel worse like really if you feel worse, call and I’ll drive you to the Doctors ok?’ 

David nodded, taking a gulp of water. ‘Okay.’ he croaked. 

Patrick gave him a little smile and leaned down to kiss him. ‘Sleep. Love you.’ he said. 

David hummed. Not through lack of returning the sentiment, just it seemed, talking hurt now as well. Patrick kissed his head and left. 

David picked at his breakfast, for the sake of Patrick lecturing him. But he wasn’t very hungry. He managed half of it, and drank his water. He picked up the dirty dishes and carried them across to the kitchen, scraping the remaining oatmeal away and leaving the dishes to soak. He paused at the counter to blow his nose, which caused him to cough again. He cursed his stupid body for letting this cold take hold quite so much. He shuffled back to bed, his chest hurt. Like he’d pulled something. But also with every breath he took. But maybe he just needed to lie down again. He was sweaty and hot and all round felt awful. But maybe if he just slept. 

He did manage to sleep for a while. A deep thankfully cough-less sleep and he woke up confused and disoriented. The first thing he registered was his chest hurting. And how hot he was. And sweaty he realised. He sat up, and coughed, hard. And the feeling of not being able to breathe was back. He told himself not to be stupid. He was fine. It was a cold, a cough. He wasn’t dying. 

‘But what if?’ his brain told him. 

He forced himself to lie down. He was being ridiculous, he knew. It was fine he was fine. He pushed the covers off, he was far too warm. He considered taking his t-shirt off. That’s when he knew he was too warm. He took another swig of water, and his chest ached again. He coughed and couldn’t clear it, and that made it worse. He groaned in pain. Laying on his side felt better. So he did that. Until he became conscious of the twinge every time he tried to breathe. He picked up his phone. He could just look it up. To check. He didn’t want to bother Patrick unless he was sure after all. He was really warm now, and he definitely couldn’t breathe. He should check. What if it was serious and he didn’t check and it was too late. And Patrick was angry at him for making himself ill. 

He stopped, tried to breathe again. He felt the twinges in his left side now, just in the middle of his ribcage. What if it was his heart he wondered. He’d better check. 

Five minutes of googling and he felt like his chest was an iron cage. And he was sweating more than before. And he was sure he couldn’t get enough oxygen even if he tried. 

He flicked off WebMD and sent a text to Patrick;

“I can’t breathe right. Really hot.” 

He waited then before Patrick could answer. 

“Come home. Please?”

He barely waited 30 seconds before Patrick replied. 

“Stay in bed, I’m on my way” 

David lay still trying to breathe, trying not to focus on the pain, on his thoughts telling him stupid things, until Patrick rushed in. 

‘David!’ Patrick rushed across the room, to David in bed and sat next to him. One look at him said his fever had got worse, there was a sheen of sweat on his face and he was flushed. He was breathing heavily, but that could have been the cough, the panic, or both. 

‘You came!’ David said and Patrick was sure he was slightly delirious. He stroked his hair. 

‘Of course I came.’ he said gently ‘What’s going on?’ 

David swallowed and tried to sit up, causing him to cough and flop back down. ‘I can’t breathe, and I felt really hot, and there’s a pain when I breathe, like here…’ he waved an arm towards his chest ‘And then I looked it up.’

Patrick smiled ‘Now there was your mistake.’ he said with a smile. David seemed fine, feverish and in pain but fine. But he wanted to check. ‘I’m gonna ring the Doctor’s office, see what they can tell me over the phone ok? If they say you need to go in we’ll go in.’

‘The Store?’ David mumbled, suddenly realising that Patrick should be at work. 

‘Stevie’ he said ‘It was either that or I send her here.’

‘She would be a terrible nurse.’ David muttered. 

‘Yes indeed.’ he said. He was searching for the number of the Doctor’s office in Elmdale. He assumed David wasn’t registered anywhere, but he knew they had a nurse who took phone consults. He wandered to the kitchen waiting for someone to answer and flicked the kettle on. When he got through to the nice sounding nurse, he explained the situation and the nurse- a bubbly sounding man call Peter, agreed it just sounded like a bad cold, with some strain on David’s chest from the cough. He recommended continuing with the medication the pharmacist had given, along with a few additional tips for helping. If the fever didn’t go down by tomorrow he said to come in. 

‘Thank you.’ Patrick said, ‘Um, just to check, my boyfriend he, well he gets panic attacks...he’s not going to do any damage by getting himself worked up-I mean I’m trying to keep him calm, but his breathing is a bit, you know when he gets like that.’

‘He won’t do any more damage than he would normally. And it sounds like you’re there keeping him as calm as you can. Just keep reminding him it’s normal, and these symptoms will pass. And that you’re going to look after him.’ 

‘Now he finally believes me.’ Patrick said without thinking ‘Sorry, yes thank you.’

‘No problem.’ Peter said ‘And listen, if he ever wanted to speak to someone, about the panic attacks, we have a great therapist who works here. You could come with him, if he’d prefer.’

‘Thank you.’ Patrick said ‘I’ll suggest it. When he’s better.’ 

He said his goodbyes and made two cups of tea. He retrieved a heat pack from the cupboard, usually reserved for his sports injuries and put it in the microwave. He carried all of them over and set the tea down. Next he pulled the blankets back up over David who was dozing again. As soon as Patrick moved them he woke up. 

‘They said you should be fine.’ Patrick said, sitting next to him. ‘Just as long as the fever doesn’t get higher. The pain in your chest is normal when you’ve been coughing this much- just strained muscles.’ David nodded slowly. 

‘What about when I can’t breathe?’ he frowned. 

‘Partly your cold, everything is full of phlegm that’s not helping.’ Patrick reached over and put a hand on his shoulder rubbing his thumb there. ‘But I think the rest is just anxiety kicking in. Telling you you can’t breathe. Then you can’t.’ Patrick shrugged. Probably the most painful thing about watching David wrestle with his anxiety was that every time it came up with a new way to scare him, he also had to admit how much a hold it had on his life. 

David nodded. It made sense. As frustrating as it was. He tried to breathe and felt his chest tighten. Classic anxiety. He’d just missed it doing battle with the cold. He eased himself up. ‘My brain hates me.’ he said ‘I’m aware of the irony of that before you say it.’ he gave Patrick a small wonky smile. 

Patrick patted his arm, then kicked off his shoes. ‘Scoot.’ He said indicating David should move. And climbing into the bed next to him. 

‘Well, we can’t fix that right now.’ he said, wrapping David in the bedcovers again and pulling him towards him. ‘But I can keep you warm, keep you hydrated, and get you feeling better.’ He reached over for the heat pack ‘Try this here.’ he said holding it gently on the bridge of David’s nose. He made an appreciative noise. ‘Good?’ Patrick said. David nodded. ‘Good.’ Patrick said and let him settle in. 

‘You can’t stay in bed with me all day.’ David muttered as Patrick wrapped himself around him. He was telling himself he was helping keep David warm, but really he was enjoying the chance to curl up in bed himself. 

‘Watch me.’ muttered Patrick stifling a yawn into David’s shoulder. ‘Maybe not all day.’ he mumbled, resting his head and closing his eyes. He felt David relax under him and they both drifted off to sleep for a while. 

David shifted restlessly in his sleep, but he wasn’t waking up. His cough seemed ot have calmed down in the last couple of hours, it wasn’t as bone shaking sounding as it had been. And he’d slept through a good three hours now. Patrick had extracted himself after an hour or so, but now watching David toss in his sleep he was concerned. He went back over to the bed and took hold of his shoulder. 

David was being chased by bees in his dream. Bees that turned into moths. So he was running. And running. Until he hit a brick wall. A wall with Patrick’s voice. 

‘Bees!’ he shouted out loud as he woke up. Patrick couldn’t help but laugh. 

‘No bees just me.’ he chuckled. ‘Ugh you’re soaking.’ he said, ‘Maybe your fever is breaking.’ he reached for David’s forehead, which did feel cooler. ‘Lunch?’ he asked hopefully. 

David nodded, suddenly starving, having not had much breakfast. Patrick nodded, and went to heat up the soup while David curled up under the covers again. He ate hungrily when Patrick returned with the food, and then dozed some more while Patrick filed some orders and invoices for the afternoon at his desk. Periodically he’d come and sit with David, or bring him more tea. He had the radio on quietly and the two lots of ambient sound- Patrick working and the soft music, meant David half-slept most of the afternoon. 

Patrick kept an eye on him while he worked, but he seemed to have turned a corner from this morning. He was coughing and sneezing still. And his voice, the few times he spoke was croaking and clearly painful. Small mercies Patrick thought to himself, a quiet David for a few days might be a blessing. Around five while David was dozing again, Patrick had an idea. 

He went to the bathroom and started to run a bath. He had grabbed some bath oils, as well as essential oils, from the Store first thing. And he got them from his bag now. He figured a long soak in the hot water, and a chance to relax, along with the benefit of the heat might nudge David’s recovery along. As the water finished running he went back to the bed. 

‘Hey.’ he nudged at his boyfriend who was curled up sideways. David hauled himself upwards yawning. ‘I ran you a bath.’ Patrick said with a smile, ‘You feel like a soak?’ 

David frowned ‘A bath?’ he said. ‘You ran me a bath?’

Patrick nodded. ‘Come on. The hot water will do you good. Besides which, your hair looks sad.’ Patrick grinned as David instinctively moved his hand up to his hair, which was indeed flat and lifeless. He offered his hands and pulled David out of the bed leading him to the bathroom. 

Patrick held out his bathrobe ‘Put this on.’ he said ‘That also has to be the one thing you haven’t moved into my bathroom.’

‘I don’t own one.’ David said undoing his pants. 

‘I’ll buy you one for Christmas.’ Patrick said ‘A really ugly one.’ he went back to the bathroom as David shot him a disgusted stare and turned his attention back to the water which was just about done now. And added a few more drops of oils. The scent was almost overpowering to him but he guessed David could barely smell it. 

It was warm in the small bathroom, warmer than he’d felt other than in bed in days. But his head was still foggy and he struggled slowly out of his pants. Patrick turned around and offered him an arm as he wriggled free. Then his arms wouldn’t cooperate and he got stuck halfway out of his t-shirt. He felt Patrick’s hands on his sides lifting it off him. He went to move towards the bath but Patrick stopped him. Putting him in the bathrobe and steering him to the closed toilet. 

‘Sit.’ he said. David frowned at him. Patrick opened the cupboard and pulled out a small tub. David recognised it as one of their facemasks from the Store. He frowned. ‘Can’t put this on with you frowning can I?’ Patrick said. 

‘What are you doing?’

‘Skincare.’ Patrick said with a smile, and scooped some of it onto a finger and started working it onto David’s forehead. The minute the cool paste touched his skin he saw his face relax. He was still a bit warm and no doubt the coolness felt good. He smiled to himself. 

David felt the coolness of the mask and instantly felt his face relax. Moments later Patrick’s gentle touch worked it around his face, and he hummed slightly leaning into the touch. For a moment everything felt a bit calmer. Until of course he sneezed.

Patrick laughed. Even though David clearly caught him in the spray of the sneeze not having time to move his hands to his mouth. ‘Done anyway, in you get.’ Patrick jerked his head to the bath as he washed his hands. He watched David ease himself in with a sigh and smiled. 

‘I’ll be back.’ he said leaving him to soak in the warmth. 

David heard the door click and let himself melt into the warm bath. He could smell the mix of oils- about the only thing he’d been able to smell for days, and the warmth felt like it was creeping into his tired muscles. He didn’t think anyone had run him a bath that hadn’t been a premise for sex before. Nobody had done it just to look after him. He sighed and closed his eyes. He had no idea how long he was there for, he was aware of Patrick making noise outside the bathroom for a while and then he might have dozed off, because then next thing he heard was Patrick’s voice, and the sound and sensation of the tap turning on topping up the hot water. 

Patrick smiled to himself seeing David look content in the bath. It was actually the stillest he’d seen him other than asleep. He made a mental note to try this when he was well, and he was in need of a few calm moments. Wrangling David was after all at times like herding cats. Or actually a very over-excitable puppy. Regardless this seemed to have worked. He flicked open his eyes and looked over as if to get out. Patrick shook his head. 

David half expected Patrick to strip off and get in with him. Because that’s what you did right? That’s what couples did with baths. Instead Patrick knelt down by the bath and ran his hand over David’s hair. ‘Still sad.’ he said, and reached up for the showerhead. ‘Scoot.’ he said softly moving David a touch so he could turn it on without half drowning him. David realised what he was doing ‘I can…’ he managed half heartedly before Patrick shushed him, with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He watched while Patrick ran the water over his hand, then moved it over his head. He felt Patrick’s hand smoothing over his hair as he wet it, working his hand through where the longer bits had got tangled after three days without washing or even styling it, he gently worked them free while running his hand over David’s head. He shut off the water and reached for the shampoo- David’s that of course he kept here by now. 

‘Close your eyes.’ Patrick told him, shifting on his knees to reach David’s head. He squirted the shampoo onto his hands and started working it through David’s hair. He’d worried this was a step too far, that David wouldn’t tolerate this level of being, looked after or nursed or whatever. But the instant Patrick touched his head he saw him visibly relax, his shoulders shifted, his face relaxed and Patrick smiled to himself. He worked his hands around David’s head, massaging the shampoo in, really he had no idea what he was doing but the response seemed to suggest it was helping so he carried on. Then gently rinsed it, smoothing the soap away from David’s eyes. Then he repeated the whole thing with the conditioner, taking even longer to massage it in, and gently rinse. When he was done he worked his hand down David’s neck in a little, final reassuring massage. ‘Ok out you get.’ he said, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder. The water was getting cold and the last thing they needed was for David to get a chill as well. 

David opened his eyes and took a moment to look at his boyfriend who was kneeling, now slightly wet from washing his hair. His face must have betrayed his emotions because Patrick smiled back in that shy, slightly dopey way he reserved for when something really touched him. David nodded and pulled himself out, taking the towel and then the bathrobe. 

‘We’re not done.’ Patrick said, ‘Rinse your face.’ 

David shot him a sideways glance and complied. Patrick jerked his head to the toilet, and David, wrapped in the robe again now sat on the closed lid again. 

‘So don’t tell me off if I get this in the wrong order but I’m going to try.’ Patrick said, and pulled out David’s cleansing lotion from the cupboard. David frowned for a second, was Patrick really going to? ‘This first yes?’ it seemed he was. 

‘I can do my own…’ his voice croaked and he coughed lightly at least. ‘I’m not totally…’ he lost energy halfway through, half flailing an arm. 

Patrick put the bottle down and stood in front of David, hands on his shoulders. ‘I know you can love.’ David’s chest pulled at Patrick’s rarely-used term of endearment ‘But this makes you feel better, and you haven’t had the energy to do it, let me.’ David lifted his eyes and nodded. Patrick nodded back. And then proceeded to do David’s entire skincare routine, without prompting. He’d watched David do it dozens of times now. He’d mocked David for it most of those times. But he’d also paid attention. He knew exactly what step went where, and managed to do it- as much as was possible mirroring someone, exactly as David did, right down to the way he gently dabbed under-eye moisturiser. It was the kindest, sweetest thing and David couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. As Patrick smoothed the last of the moisturiser over his cheek with a thumb, David reached up and caught his wrist.

‘Sorry did I do that wrong?’ Patrick’s brown eyes were a bit wider, concerned he’d got this far and messed it up. David locked his eyes with his and Patrick realised there were tears in them ‘Hey, what’s up? Did I hurt you?’ 

David smiled a wonky smile, it was so perfectly Patrick to worry then that something he’d done wasn’t quite right. He shook his head and sniffed. ‘This was just...nice.’ he rolled his eyes, mainly at himself ‘You’re just so nice.’

Patrick chuckled. ‘Remember that next time I’m annoying you. I’m nice.’ he smiled but then leaned down and kissed David gently running his thumb across his cheek. ‘I love you.’ he said, knowing this whole thing was overwhelming his boyfriend, and not wanting to push him by saying all the things in his head right now. Because as much as David was overwhelmed by having someone take care of him, Patrick had slowly come to realise he’d never had someone to look after. Someone he would do anything to make feel better, and someone he hurt for when they were hurting- even if it was just a cold. And if he thought about all that too hard, about how ridiculously he loved the ridiculous man whose hair he had just washed. He let out a slight ‘Ooof’ as David’s arms snaked around his hips and pulled him into a tight hug. 

‘I love you too.’ he heard muttered into his chest, and he reached an arm around the back of David’s head and held him for a second. 

‘C’mon dinner’ he said, detangling himself and hauling David up. He coughed a few times as he moved and then followed slowly. 

David shuffled off to the bedroom to dress, and Patrick muttered about starting dinner. He picked up his phone and noticed a missed called from his Mom. Before he could make a decision on calling her, his phone sprang to life. 

David appeared in the kitchen, with perfect timing too. 

‘My Mom.’ Patrick said. ‘I’ll call her back.’ 

‘Just answer’ David croaked. ‘Dinner can wait.’ 

Patrick froze for a second not sure what to do. David raised an eyebrow and nodded at the phone, before getting himself a glass of water and heading over to the sofa. Patrick nodded. 

‘Hey Mom.’ he said 

‘Patrick honey, are you busy? You didn’t answer?’

‘Yeah sorry Mom, it was on silent in the kitchen.’ that wasn’t a lie at least. 

‘Oh well it’s nothing important, just your Aunt was wondering whether to send your Birthday presents there or if you were going to make it home?’

He was caught off guard for a second, and flicked his eyes over to David. ‘Um, I guess here? I mean I might still make it home, but things are pretty busy with the Store and…’

‘That’s what I told her honey, but at least I can tell her I asked right?’ his Mom wasn’t happy about how long it had been since he’d been home but she also never pressured him. ‘Look we’d love to see you but we understand you’re busy.’ 

‘Thanks Mom.’ his voice was small, he mostly managed to gloss over this stuff but it was hard when he was asked point blank to come home. 

‘How is the Store?’ Marcy asked brightly. 

‘Busy yeah.’ Patrick said moving aimlessly over to the fridge and opening it. 

‘And how’s David?’ 

‘Good.’ he said automatically ‘Oh well not so good, he’s sick- a cold-but he’s fine.’ he glanced over to where David looked at him, eyebrows up, aware he was being talked about. 

‘Oh poor love. Well send him my love when you see him- I guess he’s taken a few days off?’

‘Uh yeah he stayed home today, I guess tomorrow too, it’s a pretty bad cold.’ Patrick felt hot suddenly. 

‘Oh poor thing. Shame he doesn’t have anyone to look after him from what you’ve said about his family.’

Patrick made a hum of agreement. Closing his eyes. 

‘Well you make sure you visit him, take him some food or something I bet he hasn’t eaten properly living at a Motel too. And make sure he’s got some medication, you don’t want him getting sicker.’

‘Mom, I’m sure he’ll be fine.’ 

‘Still you look after your friend, he’s been good to you since you moved there.’ 

‘Yeah. He has.’ Patrick said with a sad smile into the fridge. 

‘Anyway honey we’re heading out for dinner, so I’ll call you over the weekend ok?’ 

‘Yeah sure.’ he shut the fridge again. ‘Love you Mom.’

‘Love you dear. And love to David.’ she hung up. He closed his eyes for a second. He hated this. But he’d backed himself into a corner he couldn’t get out of now. 

‘Mom sends her love. Very concerned you might die of a cold’ he said with what felt like forced brightness in the direction of the living area. David looked up and smiled. It made it worse he got on so well with his parents. ‘Dinner?’ 

David nodded, with a smile. Patrick’s Mom seemed very sweet, his Dad too. Which shouldn’t surprise him given how their Son was, but it still felt quite alien to have someone’s parents concerned about him. 

Patrick busied himself with making dinner, a quick chicken and pasta dish, which was suitably nutritious but also suitably soft that David couldn’t complain. And he tried to put the call with his Mom out of his mind. He’d make it right, he just needed time. 

David felt better than he had in days. After eating all of the pasta Patrick served him- actually sat at a table too- and then a large bowl of ice cream, because he wasn’t above milking the cold for sympathy, he then actually stayed awake while they watched some TV. He was still coughing and sneezing often, but he felt like he could think again. Even if he couldn’t really speak. Which no doubt Patrick was enjoying. He wrapped himself around his boyfriend on the sofa and heard Patrick make a small contented noise. He looked up and saw him smiling at him, but also looking a bit sad. He furrowed his eyebrows and Patrick shook his head. 

‘Nothing.’ he muttered, giving David a squeeze. He nodded and rested his head on Patrick’s stomach again, enjoying the warmth and quiet as they lay there. 

That night when David woke up coughing, he immediately felt Patrick shift, and retrieve the cough syrup. He pulled him down and let him cough into his chest, smoothing his hair and muttering ‘Poor love.’ sleepily into him. David squeezed him in thank you, and let his heartbeat sooth him back to sleep until the next time he woke. Mumbling apologies and downing some water, he felt Patrick loop an arm around his waist, working a hand under his shirt. When he woke up a third time he gave him more cough syrup. And the fourth time pulled him upwards into a half sitting position which finally seemed to work in easing it enough for him, though he wasn’t sure Patrick, to sleep a bit. 

As 6am rolled around Patrick woke from his half doze. Sitting with David in his lap was not unlike trying to sleep on a plane. Half sleeping and starting awake. Still he could live without a couple of night’s sleep, and tomorrow was their day off, he’d be fine after a lie in. An hour later he extracted himself, propping David up on the pillows, and getting himself ready. 

‘Bring me some juice before you go!’ David was shouting across the room an hour later. Patrick had already made him breakfast. Brought him his phone, the laptop, a book, and a supply of snacks. 

‘I see someone is feeling a bit better then?’ Patrick said, handing over the glass with a smile. ‘But I’m happy you’re staying home today.’ 

David smiled at him. ‘I can come in…’

‘David it’s fine. I’d rather you be well. I’d rather you be well for our day off tomorrow...or at least functional.’ he leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

‘Functional?’ David raised an eyebrow. 

‘Only you could make that dirty.’ Patrick said with a smirk, then leaned in and kissed him ‘But now you mention it.’ he said in a low voice. David pulled him closer and kissed him in a way that indicated he was indeed feeling better. Until he pulled back and sneezed four times. Patrick laughed. ‘I’ve never been more attracted to you.’ he said turning from the bed and heading for the door. 

‘Love you too!’ David called after him. Then dissolved into coughs at the effort. He was feeling better. His fever had gone. He felt like he could think clearly again. But he was croaking and coughing and sneezing still. And he had to admit that spending another day resting was probably for the best. 

By lunchtime however he was restless. He didn’t feel bad enough to need to sleep all day, but doing anything left him either coughing or aching. He’d tried to clean but he got tired after scrubbing the bathroom. He settled instead for reorganising Patrick’s clothes. Something he could sit down and do. And when he’d done that, and sorted a small pile of ‘please dispose of these atrocities’ he moved on to organising Patrick’s books and records. He’d likely be in trouble for both, but it occupied his mind until 4pm. At which point he decided to risk a scolding and venture out to meet Patrick at the Store and walk him home. The air would do him good he decided. 

The air however was cold, making him cough every few steps. And his eyes and nose run even more. So he arrived at the Store later than he intended, and looking he imagined, the least attractive he had in awhile. 

Patrick bit back a smile. ‘No wait, now I’ve never wanted you more.’ but he went to David and wrapped him in a hug while he sniffled. ‘What are you doing out?’

‘Air.’ David shrugged. Then gestured at his face. 

‘You were bored.’ Patrick smiled. 

‘Your closet is tidy.’ David said sheepishly. 

‘I’m not throwing out my band t-shirts’ Patrick said, folding his arms. 

‘At least give up the flannel!’ David exclaimed. 

‘You are feeling better.’ Patrick said. He checked the time on his phone. ‘Come on I’ll close up.’

‘Also you’re out of red wine. And cheese. And pie.’ 

Patrick moved past him to lock the door. ‘I don’t think I’m out of those things David, I think that’s just your weekend shopping list.’ 

‘You do need apples.’ David said sheepishly, pausing to adjust the display of moisturiser at the front of the Store. 

‘So you are feeling better.’ Patrick said with a smile, coming over to kiss him. 

‘Hmm.’ David mused. ‘I’m far too weak to cook my own dinner.’

‘Is that so?’ Patrick said with a smile. ‘What about the rest of the year then?’

‘I’m very delicate.’ he said with an eye roll. 

‘Are you too delicate to order a pizza while I cash up?’ Patrick leaned up and kissed him again. 

‘I can just about dial I suppose.’ he said with a roll of his eyes. 

‘Don’t strain anything.’ Patrick said with a smirk as he went to the counter. 

David regretted being so optimistic by the time they had got home. The walk home in the cold had made him cough more than he had all day, and his throat was raw by the time they got in, his eyes watering. Patrick looked at him with a fond pity and ordered him straight back to bed. 

‘But-’

‘David. Remember that discussion about who was the boss? I can make it less fun.’ he glared ‘I’m the boss of you until you’re well.’ 

David glared. Like a petulant child. And in a way that looked familiar. ‘That’s the look your Mom gives me when I fuck up her chorography.’ Patrick said, folding his arms. ‘Bed.’ 

David pouted his way to bed. But let out a sigh of relief that Patrick could hear from the kitchen when he got into it. 

‘No more tea!’ he shouted from the bed.

‘I’m not making any.’ Patrick shouted back, rolling his eyes. This was more what he expected from a sick David. But at least he knew how to handle a petulant, pouting David. This was just a more sniffly version than usual. He walked into the bedroom with two glasses of whiskey. ‘Will this appease you?’ he asked. 

‘Well it’s better than tea.’ David sulked. 

‘Hmm.’ Patrick said ‘Drink. Pizza’s on the way.’ he started to undo his shirt and caught David looking. He locked eyes with him and pointedly didn’t move. David watched him take off his shirt, then his pants, his eyes flicking appreciatively over his underwear and up to his t-shirt. With a smirk Patrick took off the T shirt and walked in his underwear to the drawer for his pajamas. ‘Not gonna happen David.’ he said with a glance over his shoulder as he bent down. ‘Not until you’re better.’ 

David downed his drink, enjoying the view. ‘Don’t worry I haven’t got the strength to lift an arm, never mind…’ he trailed off still watching his boyfriend. ‘Still you could come over here and kiss me properly, you know, give me something to look forward to….’ he raised an eyebrow. 

Patrick smiled, and got onto the bed. David had flopped in the middle, and he carefully worked his way over to the centre. Leaning down he quickly hooked a leg over David’s hips and sat himself in David’s lap. Before he could object he leaned in and kissed him. Deeply, and certainly giving him something to look forward to. David reached for his hips keeping him there, and he worked his hands up David’s neck and into his hair. He pulled back a fraction tilting his head. 

‘Thought you said you couldn’t possibly lift anything?’ he ficked his eyes down meaninfully. David had the decency to blush a little then grinned. ‘Still not happening.’ Patrick said leaning down and kissing him. 

‘But this is making me feel so much better.’ David said. Sniffing involuntarily as he did so. Patrick laughed. And pulled himself off David’s lap to sit next to him. But to make sure he knew where his head still was, reached over and kissed him again, letting him linger, pulling him back into a deep kiss. 

‘Once you’re better.’ Patrick said with a smile, grinning again at David’s groan. But the fact he then dissolved into coughs proved his point. ‘You wouldn’t have the stamina right now.’ he said with a wink. David huffed. But curled into him for a hug, which was in his mind rudely interrupted by a knock at the door and the pizza arriving. 

That night he slept through, it felt like, by some miracle, for eight hours. When he woke at 8am Patrick was curled up sleeping soundly next to him. He’d lost as much sleep the last three days without sleeping half the day to make up for it like David had. He took a moment to watch his sleeping boyfriend. Something he didn’t see in daylight very often, not being a morning person Patrick was invariably the first one to wake. For a moment David appreciated his handsome, and right now frankly adorable boyfriend. 

‘Stop watching me sleep.’ Patrick muttered. Not opening his eyes. 

‘How did you know?’ David said. Or more accurately croaked. He coughed to clear his throat ‘I mean I wasn’t.’ still croaky. Apparently not all that better then. 

‘I can feel it.’ Patrick said. Still not opening his eyes ‘s’creepy.’

David leaned over and kissed his cheek and felt him smile. 

‘Better.’ he muttered. He rolled over onto his back. Finally opening his eyes. He flopped a hand in David’s direction, which he caught and raised to his lips to kiss. ‘How are you feeling?’ Patrick mumbled. 

‘Mmm.’ David said putting Patrick’s hand down. He leaned over and kissed his cheek again and rolled out of bed. An idea occurring to him. Patrick watched him go for a second, assuming he was going to the bathroom then closed his eyes again. He opened them when he heard clattering from the kitchen ‘David?’

‘Stay put!’ came the call. Patrick chuckled. And closed his eyes again. He was tired, and the worst that was going to happen was he’d be summoned in five minutes when David couldn’t find something. He must have drifted off again because the next thing he knew, David was stood over the bed holding a tray. He looked pleased with himself. 

‘Breakfast.’ he declared. As Patrick yawned and pulled himself upright. ‘Bacon, eggs and toast. And coffee.’ 

‘You are domesticated!’ Patrick exclaimed. 

‘Don’t get too used to it.’ David smirked getting into bed as Patrick took the tray. 

Once he was settled, the tray between them, Patrick smiled at him. ‘This is nice thank you.’ he said. David nodded, taking the bacon and chewing with a little smile. 

A while later they were still in bed, a second cup of coffee in hand, David leaning on Patrick while he read. 

‘Thank you.’ he said quietly. 

Patrick didn’t have to ask for what. He leaned down and kissed his hair. ‘I’m always going to look after you.’ he said. ‘In sickness and in health and all that…’ he let that hang for a moment. David shifted under him and sat up a bit, his eyebrows asking a question. ‘You know, one day.’ Patrick said. David blinked a couple of times and bit his lip. ‘If you…’ Patrick shrugged. David shrugged and Patrick laughed. ‘Nothing like a committed response David.’

David shifted, sat next to Patrick, their shoulders touching. Thinking. ‘Nobody.’ he started, then took a sip of his coffee. ‘Nobody..looked after me before.’ he said. 

Patrick put his coffee cup and book down, and took David’s hand. Carefully not looking at him. ‘I know.’ he said. 

‘I’d...look after you too.’ David said carefully. ‘I mean I probably won’t be very good at it, being you know, me but ...I’d try.’

Patrick leaned over and kissed his cheek, holding on with his hand on the other cheek. He rested his forehead for a second. The thought of David doing his best to look after someone was...almost too much. 

‘Do you want someone to...look after you though.’ Patrick all but whispered at him. 

David swallowed. And paused. ‘It’s all I want.’ he said quietly, his voice croaking, not from the cold this time. 

Patrick nodded. Kissed his cheek again. And took his hand. ‘Good.’ he said. He felt David snake an arm around his stomach and bury his head in his chest. ‘Good.’ he said into his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a short thing because I was sick as a dog this week...but as ever grew into something more. As much as bratty David is fun to write, David who doesn't know how to be looked after wandered into my head and stuck. While Patrick was trying to figure out his next moves too. 
> 
> The 'fine/find' line is borrowed from 'Friends' and the 'stop watching me sleep' appropriated from Bridget Jones' Diary. 
> 
> Now if someone could send me a Patrick next time I'm sick that would be great.


End file.
